Hold Back the River
by mushsroomsandcucumbers
Summary: The games are different this year. The eyes of the people are opening, things are changing. But there is still the games, and Iris Thorne has to do whatever she can to surive. (OC/OC) (Finnick/Annie)
1. Let Me Look in Your Eye

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games or anything to do with it. Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins expect my characters.**

I see the wind, rippling through the threadbare curtains and the dark blue fabric of my dress. It is soft, warm and it wraps around me, holding me in way that nobody else would.

The house is empty. My brother left a few minutes ago to collect some food for later. It was a tradition of sorts, that had held for all the years he was eligible for the reaping, and all of the years that I was too.

District 4 is considered a career district, so most of the tributes volunteered, but not always.

My name is in the bowl 16 times this year, fewer than most but still enough to make me worry. Of course I worry, I worry about everything.

My brother and his risk-taking, my father and his drinking. Izak Lapworth and his general meanness. War, running out of food, running out of money, the people I still see starving in the streets in a District that's supposed to be well off.

The door clicks and my brother walks in. A fresh loaf of bread under his arm and the smell drifts up my nose. My stomach rumbles.

"You okay?" he asks, not really looking in my reaction as he places the bread in the centre of their old table, covering it with a tablecloth. "It's almost time."

I don't have to worry about him this year. He's too old for the reaping now, at 20. The irony is that he could've won if he had ever been reaped. Eero was tough enough, and clever enough, to make it.

He kneels before me as I sit on a nearby stool, taking my hands in his.

"You're going to be okay." He whispers and I nod, "Someone will volunteer this year, I know it. It won't be you." He says and I sort of of believe him for a moment. Because even if I am picked the likelihood is that someone will volunteer to take my place. I feel myself relax. My brother always did know how to help me.

He is very tall, about 6ft 2, and all the girls at school would giggle when they saw him. I could see why, my brother could easily be considered handsome, with his dark hair and deep brown eyes and the layer of stubble he always seemed to have around his chin. He knew it too, was always messing around with some girl, but never the same one and never for very long.

"Thanks," I breathe, finally, "At least you're in the clear this year." I smile, but his face turns serious.

"Yeah," he mumbles. Not really looking me in the eye. I worry again. "Time to go," he says, and smiles. "I'll go and wake Dad."

Our father is not the best. We rarely see him, he is always in his room, asleep next to the bottle of liquor that should be food. He doesn't work and it's a wonder that the Capitol let him get away with it. Still the Peacekeepers here have been here for a while, they know him well and at the end of the day they must see it as more hassle than it's worth. We get by. Both Eero and I worked after school in the net factory, and since he's left school he's been out fishing full time. Dad's been this way ever since our mother died. It's been five years, but the pain must be just as great for him now as it was that day. Still, everyone has to be present at the reaping.

The air is warm as I step outside, the smell of salt greets me and I can almost feel it's soothing power. It is not a smell that I think I will ever get used to, or ever get sick of.

The sun is high and bright in the sky, and its warmth tingles my skin as I wait for my brother and father to stumble out of the house.

The walk to the Justice Building is not long. I watch all of the other kids, most of which I recognize from school. Some look scared. Others look confident and I feel a little more hope that there will be two volunteers this year.

It's terrible, hoping for other people to volunteer to play a game where they will kill for fun, and glory. It shouldn't have to be like this.

Most of them are huddled in groups, best friends hold hands and couple wrap their arms around each other. It is a sad sight.

District 4's escort, a scary woman named Dynasty Augusta, wastes no time in getting started. There are the usual speeches, speeches that I tuned out to long ago. Previous victors line the stage, most are staring into the distance, some staring at the crowd like fresh meat.

Her hand drops into the bowl, brushing around the envelopes for effect before plucking one out. I look to my feet.

Iris Thorne.

For a split second it feels as if my heart stops. My head snaps up and I search the crowd for my brother. I see my own panic reflected in his eyes. But there is nothing he can do.

Still, I smile. Walking steadily to the stage, I smile. This is a career district, I need to show them that I am not afraid. That I know what I'm doing.

The smile falters half way up the steps. I force myself to pick it back up.

Calm. Be calm. It's not over yet.

"And so we have our female tribute for District 4. Any volunteers?" Dynasty asks and I hold my breath, waiting for the two words that will mean my safety. Two words that I'm beginning to think I will never hear.

"Very well. No female volunteers this year. Aren't you lucky!" Her voice is so enthusiastic and squeaky, it makes me want to throw up.

"Now for the boys!"

I hear nothing but the sound of her heels clicking as she walks to the other bowl and back. My eyes scan the crowd for Eero, he looks lost. My father is no where to be seen.

"Izak Lapworth."

My heart stops again and I wonder if this could possibly be any worse.


	2. Feel the Flames Burn

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games or anything to do with it. **

**Chapter 2 - Feel the Flames Burn**

Izak Lapworth is my chief tormentor. He is mean to a lot of people, but I seem to be the most frequent client. It is because of him, that no one will talk to me at school. It is because of him, that I have bruises on my arm I have to keep hidden from my brother. It is thanks to him, that I dread waking up in the morning.

He is a career. I have no doubt that he has been training for this moment and may have even have volunteered for it had his name not been called. The smug smile on his face confirms my suspicions.

No one would dare volunteer in his place.

The time comes for us to shake hands, I try to avoid looking into his eyes but he can't help catching them. He is smiling, more of a smirk really. It suceeds in unnerving me.

The room is luxurious, but that is only to be expected. The door opens and Eero rushes in, pulling me into a hug before I can say anything.

"This is my fault. This is all my fault." He whispers and my head shoots up. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek.

"What do you mean?"

He wont look me in the eye and somehow I know what he is going to say.

"They must have overheard us talking. Me and the others. They know. There was a plan, a small uprising. Enough to at least inconvenience for the Capitol for a while. I should have known they would take it out on you. I'm so… so sorry. This is all my fault. I can't even volunteer to help you anymore."

He is crying. I haven't seen him cry since mom died.

"Shh…" I wrap my arms around him, "It's okay. This is not your fault. This is the Capitol. Remember that. I love you."

He sniffs, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I love you too little sis."

"Hey, " I say, trying my best to be reassuring. "I'll be fine. You taught me to defend myself, remember? As long as I can get my hands on a knife I'll be be fine."

"Yeah, yeah you will." He says, a sad smile appearing on his face. "I'll be with you. Remember that. I am always with you. Here…" He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of cloth curled into his fist. His napkin, one that mom made him. She had made one for both of us when we were small but I had no pockets today and hadn't wanted to lose mine so I left it safely at home. It seems silly now, how overconfident I was. "A token, to remind you."

"Thank you." He folds it up and tucks it into my hands. "Look after dad." At the mention of our father his face falls.

"If I have to." He jokes and I smile, pulling him in for a hug again. For a moment, we're just a brother and sister sharing a comforting hug, oblivious to the fact that one of us will most likely die in the weeks to come, and forgetting the hatred we share towards the people who have put us in this position.

I feel them dragging him away from me, "I love you." I call out.

"I love you too, Remember…" And he's gone. All I have left is the handkerchief in my hand.


	3. The Shape I'm In

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games or anything to with it.**

The train is even more luxurious than the room in the Justice Building, but once again that is not surprising. I can't even take it in though, because of the company I am forced to share. Lapworth hasn't stopped smirking at me since we sat down.

"So. Thorne. What's it like knowing you're going to die?"

I ignore him.

"Having absolutely no hope whatsoever."

Nope.

"Knowing I'll probably be the one to kill you."

…

"I don't know why I expect you to say something. You've never stopped me before so I doubt you'll stop me now. Even when you have nothing to lose."

"What do you want me to say?" I sigh, giving in. "That I hate you? You're right, I never said anything before so why should I now? Why should I give you the satisfaction of seeing me upset?" I turn to face him, feel the tears burning in the back of my eyes because this isn't fair. "I'll get all the satisfaction I need in the arena, when you're dead." The words contain all the venom I can muster, but he just continues to smirk.

I should've known to keep silent. This is what he wanted.

"Tributes!"

We're interrupted by the man entering the room. He is recognizable anywhere. His sandy hair and perfect eyes make sure of that. Finnick Odair.

"Welcome!"

He is too happy, too enthusiastic but I expected no less. Finnick Odair is the darling of the Capitol. He would never say anything against them. I doubt he could either, the train is probably bugged.

"I'm thinking both of you aren't really in the mood for talking strategy right now so I'll just explain how things are going to work, ask some questions and then we'll take it from the there. Okay?"

He asks, giving what must be his most dazzling smile. If I wasn't sitting down my knees would be wobbling. The cameras definitely didn't exaggerate his charm or his looks. I nod.

"Good. So when we get to the capitol, you'll be taken to the tribute training centre. Complete makeovers, all that stuff. You'll meet your stylists and then it will be time for the tribute parade. The next morning you start training, for three days. Then your private sessions with the Gamemakers, then the next evening you have your interviews. The morning after that the games begin. Are we clear."

Otis has been oddly quiet, I half expected him to jump in with some sarcastic comment or challenge but he just sits there.

I could be seeing thing, but something tells me he has an immense amount of respect for the victor sitting before us.

"So lets start with you. Izak isn't it."

"Yeah," he nods, sitting forward.

"How old are you?"

"18"

"Great, and you Iris?."

"16."

"Okay, not the youngest. We'll work with it. Izak, I assume you've been training for this?"

"Umm.. Yeah. Of course." Something about the way he answers makes me question whether or not its true.

"Ok, I think that's it for now." He says, standing up and turning to the door. "Oh, and take my advice, have as much fun as you can while you can."

I almost ask him to stay, to not leave me alone with him but he was gone before I could say anything.

I feel my skin prickle as Izak sits forward in his seat, hands clenched together. There is no denying it. I am very much afraid of him. Granted, he has never physically hurt me. It was always the other boys, sometimes girls who did that. The ones who wanted to be cool, who wanted to show how tough they were. And what better choice for them than me, the girl whom Izak Lapworth ridiculed daily, the girl he seemed to hate.

The first time it happened, I had tried to defend myself, my brother had taught me how at a young age. That only got me in trouble, the boy claiming my attack on him had been unprovoked.

It all led back to him though, he was the one who would point at me, laugh, call me loopy, call me all the names under the sun until everyone else thought there must be something wrong with me.

I could hear them, I could hear them pointing and laughing and whispering, "Kelly Mcgrawl told me Iris sleeps with her brother," Or "Iris killed her mother. Totally crazy of course. They made it look like a natural death but it was really obvious," or "Her fathers a murderer, stay away from that girl." It had all originated with him, he had told me so himself. From then on my days were filled with relentless pointing and giggling and generally being avoided. Some of the nicer girls, the ones I would have liked to have been friends with, would look at me sadly, as if they were going to come over and talk to me. Suddenly someone would give them a look or Izak himself would walk in and their eyes would fall back to their shoes.

I didn't know why it was me. A lot of kids mothers or fathers had died, a lot of kids were in similar circumstances. I didn't and still don't understand why it was always me. Perhaps people just needed someone to take everything out on. Perhaps that's what Izak had provided them with. Perhaps that was what made him so popular.

He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his presence beside me. My heart fills with nothing but anger for this boy who had, it seemed, just with a few words each day, made my life a million times worse.

I got used to it quickly, it stopped bothering me so much. I started taking the beatings. No one knew, not even Eero. I was good at hiding it. The teachers would never have believed me over the older boys anyway.

Later that evening, we sit down to watch the games, our other mentor, a woman called Winnow Rosehearty, finally joins us as well as the escort.

I have to hold my tongue as Dynasty blurts out inappropriate comment after inappropriate comment. The people from the Capitol are so oblivious it is almost laughable, if it wasn't so sick of course.

The tributes from District 1, Indigo and Venture look deadly, the tributes from District 2, Fir and Prine, even more so. They are all volunteers.

District 3 look harmless, though I suspect Gunna and Septima are extremely clever.

Then I appear on the screen, and I find myself reliving the moment again. My breaths quicken as I turn away. I don't need to see this.

District 5 is next, the boy who is reaped looks too young, and just as I mourn the thought of having to kill a 12 year old, a hand snaps up and someone volunteers. It looks to be the boys brother. He looks similar but older, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes that stand out even on the screen. He wears a sad smile and for some reason I find myself drawn to him, as though I can't quite look away.

The numbers build, each pair of tributes looking smaller and more undernourished as they go up. I find myself appreciating how lucky we were in four, catching our own fish to eat was illegal, but also commonplace. We wouldn't starve so long as we could sneak out to the sea every now and then. It was the older one and the children who got it the worst, those who were too sick or weak to fish, but too poor to buy any either.

The sight of a young girl from 12, barely twelve and from the looks of it, hasn't had enough to eat her entire life, that makes my blood boil in my veins.

How dare they?

I can't sit next to Dynasty any longer, with her painted nails and tattooed arm. I walk out of the room. No one questions me.

No one follows.


	4. Walk Through Fire

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Thank you for the reviews :D Support is awesome **

* * *

Waxing is torture. That is my conclusion after having every hair not on my head ripped out of my body for the past five hours.

Eyebrows plucked, hair washed and conditioned, nails cut and cleaned and some very vigorous and unpleasant scrubbing.

By the time they are finished I can barely recognise myself in the mirror. My copper red hair falls in waves around my face, shiny and frizz-free. My eyes seem bigger and more defined and my lips are painted berry red. It looks… weird.

"All done," my stylist, Morphia announces, waving her hands in the air like she had just created a masterpiece. "You know I just don't know how I do it sometimes," she waffles on, "Every year they give me an incredibly plain tribute and I manage to turn them into a masterpiece! You look gorgeous dear, everyone will be tripping over themselves to sponsor you!"

I manage a smile, the woman has managed to insult and compliment me at the same time. I have to give her credit though, it is an improvement. I'm just glad they didn't dye my hair green or anything.

The tribute parade goes without a hitch. The costumes were ridiculous, as always. At least I wasn't completely naked with nothing but a net to cover me like last year. Still, the dungarees they put us in are just as bad.

Fishing, dungarees, fits.

* * *

The tribute training centre is huge. There are many different sections, each with their own specialty, fire-starting, archery training, swords, javelins, knives, camouflage, everything you could need and only three days to take it all in.

Finnick told us to do what feels right, but not to forget the survival skills as they were just as important as fighting.

As soon as the lift dings open Izak is off, straight for the combat sections no doubt. I heed Finnick's advice and wander over to the survival skills section, spending a good half hour pouring over what plants do what. I am so absorbed in the information I don't notice the boy that sits opposite me until he speaks, breaking me out of my reverie.

"Hi," he says as I look up. I nearly swoon. His bright blue eyes bore into mine and I almost find myself getting lost in them. "My name is Flux. I'm from District 5." I smile as the memories fall into place, I remember watching him in the reaping. He volunteered for his brother.

"Iris. I'm from District 4."

"Yeah I know. I saw you last night." I am not sure what to say, so I just smile.

"You know, " he goes on, "you don't much look like a career. Considering you're from 4."

"No, I'm not. It happens sometimes. There aren't as many willing tributes there as people think I suppose. What do I look like then?" Where is this conversation going.

He shrugs, eyes back on the tablet in his hands.

"A nice girl?" he suggests and I laugh for the first time in a while.

"Perhaps you should work on the compliments," his cheeks turn red. It's adorable.

"So how old are you? Or am I not supposed to ask a girl that?"

"I'll let you off, I'm 16. What about you?" I answer and his mouth drops open in mock surprise.

"No way! You looked a lot older than that last night! And I'm 17."

"Thanks," I say sarcasticly, " Last night I was covered in makeup and wearing evil dungarees."

"I didn't know dungarees could be evil."

"Oh mine definitely were. I wouldn't mind but the people in four don't even wear them to fish."

"Really? What do they wear then?"

"Normal clothes, most of the time its warm enough to wear shorts."

"Can I ask you a question? A personal one?"

"Go for it."

"Can you swim?"

"Of course, everyone in District 4 can swim. It's part of the curriculum."

The conversation goes on until lunchtime, and I agree to sit with him in the food section. The rest of the careers are already sitting together, Izak included, sparing a moment between mouthfuls to glare at the other tributes around the room. For the moment I am just glad not to be alone.

* * *

That night, as I sit on the ridiculously comfy bed in my room. I find myself thinking about the mystery of the boy from 5. He spoke little of himself and I resolve to ask him more tomorrow. I reach into my pocket and pull out a small, folded piece of paper.

Curious, I turn it over in my hand, before carefully unfolding it.

Meet me on the roof. Tonight. 11. - F

The words are scrawled and barley legible, but there nonetheless. A thought that the writer of the note could have been Finnick flies into my mind before I dismiss it. It is more likey that the writer was Flux.

He must have slipped it in when I wasn't looking.

I place the note in the draw beside my bed and make for the showing, dropping clothes on the floor as I go. I had my first expeirience of Capitol showers last night, and couldn't wait for another one. My favourite part is at the end, when the big puff of air dries me and detangles my hair all at once.

Dinner is quiet. Izak stares at his plate as he eats. Finnick and Winnow engage in light conversation, every so often a giggle floats from between them.

Dynasty bables on about something but no one is really listening, I try and concentrate on my food not the mysterious note. A part of me hopes it is Flux, there is something about him that just leaves me wanting more. I intend to find out anyway, whoever it is.

Half past 10 comes quickly, I slip out of my room and tiptoe out of the door leading to our suite. The lift ride seems to take longer than usual, but perhaps that is just my nerves.

I doesn't take me long to find the door leading to the roof, in fact it's a wonder that the no one else is up there.

As I step out of the building, and walk towards the edge, I'm struck by how magnificent the Capitol actually is. It is nothing compared to the beaches in four of course, nothing ever could be more beautiful than my home district. But it is still magnificent. Even more so in the darkness.

I shiver as a gust of wind hits me, and I wish I had brought a jumper or something. The concrete beneath my feet is cold and hard and I turn to go back inside.

I never noticed Flux standing behind me.

Startled I jump backwards. Big mistake. I'm about to fall over the edge when he reaches out to grab me just in time, the force he uses to pull me back leaves us both on a heap on the floor. Me sprawled on top of him.

"Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I didn't want to disturb you, you just looked so peaceful standing there and then you … and I.." He rambles as I struggle to lift myself of him.

"No I'm sorry." My heart beats rapidly in my chest, still in shock from nearly falling of the edge of a huge building.

"No you could've died!"

"There's a forcefield around the edge. If I fell onto it I bet would just bounce back up. I think its to stop tributes commiting suicide."

"Lets test it," he grins and for a moment I think he's going to throw himself of but instead he picks up a large stone, dropping it gently. In a few seconds it bounces back up and he catches it, still grinning.

"That could've killed someone," I joke and he laughs, "So it was you then. The note?" I ask as I sit down with my back against the small wall. He lowers himself next to me.

"Yeah that was me. Sorry. I didn't want anyone to overhear, they have ears everywhere in there."

"How did you know about the roof?"

"My dad was friends with one of the old victors from our district." I nod and swallow, no time like the present.

"Who was that boy you volunteered for at the reaping? Your brother?" He nods, smile gone and a sad look in his eye.

"Yeah. Kallum. He's only 12."

"I think it was very brave. He's lucky to have a brother like you." The smile returns and I almost breath I sigh of relief.

"What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"One. A brother. He's older than me, too old to volunteer anyway."

"Do you miss him?" I nod, pulling his handkercheif out of my pocket, feeling the soft fabric between my finger. My heart aches for a moment.

"Hey," he says, a hand reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behingd my hair before resting on my cheek. "You'll come back to him." The gesture is comforting, and I allow myself to lean into his touch. Because what so I have left to loose?

The next day in training we are practically attached at the hip. Going over more and more survival skills until I am confident I can start a fire without matches. In the afternoon, we move on to combat. He is suprisingly good with a spear, and I practice with a knife for a while before moving on to hand to hand combat. The instructor is impressed by my self defence skills and teaches me a few more.

Throughout the day I find myself glancing over at Izak. He is becoming very close to the girl from District 2, Prine. When he catches my eye he smirks, in turn I shiver and look away. Evil.

We meet on the roof again that night. Share a few more stories although it is hard to get anything from Flux about his background. His smile never fails to make me smile, and the moment I realize that is the moment I realize I have become too attached.

Because at least one of us will die in that arena.


	5. The Kids Aren't Alright

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the Characters that Suzanne Collins created.**

I throw knives for the game makers. Luck is with me that day because I hit most of the targets spot on.

We gather in the evening to watch the scores, I deliberately sit as far away from Izak as possible.

Both tributes from 1 get 10, one from 2 gets 9 and the other gets a ten. Predictable.

The room goes silent as our turn comes, each of us staring at Claudius as he reads.

"From District 4, Izak, with a score of… 10."

The room erupts with the sounds of cheers and congratulations. Izak smirks.

"From District 4, Iris, with a score of … 8."

It's a lot better than I expected. Finnick claps me on the back and everyone smiles at me. It feels sort of nice.

That night there is a knock at my door. Finnick.

"Can we talk?" He asks and I nod, letting him in.

He sits on the edge of the bed.

"I don't usually make a habit of talking to the tributes. It is dangerous to get too close." I nod. It must be hard being a mentor. In a way, I'm sort of glad that I won't win the games. I'm glad I won't have to watch get to know a pair of kids, only to watch them die or become permanently damaged.

"I wanted to talk to you about Izak. There seems to be something between you. Am I right? Did you know each other before the reaping?"

"Yes… Well sort of…"

"He used to pick on you didn't he?"

"Yeah." No use denying it.

"I just think that there is something he is hiding from me. About his home life and his training. I was hoping you could shed some light on it."

"I didn't, I don't really know much about where he comes from. It was never common knowledge. I think he used to train with his dad? But I'm not sure." It's true that I don't really know much about Izak Lapworth other than he is mean and yet infuriatingly good looking.

"Thanks, you've been a big help." Then he's gone.

* * *

The next morning Finnick talks to us about our angles for the interviews. I'm supposed to be funny, Izak is supposed to be arrogant, which shouldn't be too much of stretch. It takes longer than I thought to go over what we are going to say. I don't see Flux all day and find myself wishing very much that he were here.

It isn't long before I am in my interview dress. It is nothing like my outfit for the tribute parade thank goodness. In fact I love it.

It is pale blue, knee length, gathered at the waist and quite simple but beautiful nonetheless. It makes me look a few years younger than I am. They have also held of on the make up this time, using only a little around my eyes.

The time comes to line up and Izak is nowhere to be seen, neither is Prine for that matter. I jump when someone taps my shoulder.

"Flux! You scared me again!" I laugh as he pulls me into a hug.

"You look amazing," he says sincerely and I can't help but blush. So does he, in his black suit and dark blue shirt. "This is where you say 'You don't look so bad yourself Flux!'"

"What? And let it go to your head? No way!" The conversation is interrupted by Izak arriving, tucking in his shirt as he goes. Prine arrives not long after and takes her place beside her district partner.

"Well what do we have here? Found yourself a friend Thorne?" He ask, still wearing his trademark smirk.

"Looks like you've found yourself one too," I quip, nodding toward the blonde in front.

"Now look here." He warns, taking a step closer and raising his hand.

He's about to go on when Flux places himself in front of me.

He is shorter than Izak, but considering Izak is around 6"4 its not hard. "I'd rather you didn't," he says calmly and Izak takes a step back, pushing him aside.

"Relax, I wouldn't hurt dear Iris. Tell him Iris. Have I ever physically hurt you? In all the years we've known each other?"

"He's right." I sigh, because as much as I'd like to see Izak get a bit beaten up, I don't want Flux to get into trouble. Besides it's true. He's never had actually touched me. Except to stick things on my back of course.

Once again I am relieved to be in the fourth district. It means I can get this over and done with quicker.

Izak plays his part to perfection. Arrogant and yet courageous. Handsome too, I have to admit, with his dark hair and blue eyes. The people of the Capitol soak it up.

I am funny. Of course. People have been laughing at me my whole life. It makes sense for them to do so now as well. At least now it's in good way.

I stay to watch Flux's interview. He is charming and handsome and the capitol love him immediately.

He reminds me of my brother. I reach for the handkerchief before realising its not there. That I left it in my room. I miss him.

That night we meet again on the roof. He finds me fiddling with the piece of fabric in my hand, staring off into the distance, wondering what my brother is doing right now.

This time I hear him walk up behind me and turn to face him.

There are tears in my eyes.

"Hey," he whispers, again reaching out to brush a piece of hair from my face. "It's going to be okay."

"I miss my brother. I wish he was here. No I don't. Here is dangerous. This time tomorrow we could be dead. Dead." I mumble as he strokes my cheek. There is nothing he can say to correct me. I am right.

"Look at me." He says, softly, tilting my head until my eyes meet his, "You will go home. You will see your brother again." I shake my head by he makes me look at him again, both hands on my face, wiping away the tears that continue to fall. "I promise. I promise you now, that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you go back home."

It is ridiculous. You can't make promises like this. Not in the games. But his hands are so warm.

"I promise." He says again, and then his lips touch mine. It is brief, and gentle but he leans in again and this time it is longer and I can feel his promise. Feel it rushing through me. "I promise." He whispers against my lips and I am gone.


	6. When I See You Again

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Short Chapter, sorry :D - Emma**

Chapter 6

"60….59…..58…..57….56…"

Breathe. Calm. Be calm. Breathe.

"50…..49….48…."

My eyes scan the arena before me. It is pretty. The Cornucopia is sat in the middle of a field of grass, to my left there are rocks, piled high in mountains. to my right is the forest. That is where I will run. In front of me there is a lake. I do not know what is behind me. I will find out.

"29… 28… 27…. 26…."

I see Izak. He is several podiums away from me. He is looking at Prine. He looks nervous.

"19… 18… 17…"

I see Flux, he is watching the Cornucopia, scanning the supplies.

"11… 10...9...8."

Calm. Be calm. My fingers clutch at the handkerchief in the pocket of my shorts. It is warm in the arena.

"5….4….3….2...1….0"

All sound seems to fade into the background as I turn and run for the trees. Nobody sees me, they are too busy in the bloodbath.

Don't look back. He's fine…

A knife comes from know where, lands beside me. They missed. I bend down to pick it up. Then he's on top of me. The boy from District 9.

"Sorry," he whispers, raising the knife.

This is it.

I close my eyes.

Suddenly the weight on top of me lift and as I open my eyes I see the boy slumped to the side. Eyes open. Knife in the back. I grab them both and run.

The tree line become closer, I feel safer. I keep running and running until I can run no longer and stop. Catching my breath against a tree. My friend, the tree.

Footsteps. They are getting closer. Whoever it is is running. I can stay and fight or I can run.

I'll stay. I'll defend my friend the tree.

He lands on top of me, and I nearly cry out in joy at the sight of those familiar blue eyes.

Flux.

"It's you." I whisper, stating the obvious. "Are you okay?"

"Better now," he answers and despite everything I grin. So much cheese.

He has packs. He managed to pick up two and secure the bow and arrows.

"Allies?" He asks.

"Allies." I agree.

It's a good start.

We make our way further into the forest, alternating between running and walking. We don't stop. We don't look back. By sunset we've managed to put a respectable distance between us and the cornucopia.

The sky is dark when we set up camp. There is only one sleeping bag and its too small for both of us so Flux insists I take it, despite all of my protestations. The light has only just gone and already I can feel the temperature dropping, it'll be cold tonight and I can't help but worry.

All we have to wear is a black t-shirt and shorts. Perhaps this is supposed to be one of the main trials of this arena, how to stay warm in the night. We certainly can't light a fire.

The temperature continues to drop and I marvel at how hot it was earlier, at least 30 degrees, now it must be in the single figures.

"Are you sure you don't want the sleeping bag?" I ask, because he looks cold and I feel guilty being so wrapped up.

"Of course I _want _the sleeping bag," he jokes, "but it's called being nice." He smirks and I smile. It is hard to believe that the Capitol and all of the Districts are watching our every move. "Besides, I'm taking first watch so I'll be awake anyway."

It is surprisingly hard to find something to talk about. Knowing that the entire country can hear our conversation is very off-putting and I find myself longing for those two nights on the roof, where we could talk about anything and everything without the fear of being overheard. If we had a fire, perhaps there would be something to look at, but as it is it's just us. And a few million others.

I am interrupted from my thoughts by the anthem, it startles me and I jump slightly. I had gotten used to the quiet.

The first face is of the boy from District 3. I struggle to remember his name and feel bitterly disappointed that I couldn't even learn the names of these poor children. He is only 15. I remember that.

We heard the cannons earlier, counted them as we ran. 11.

The next face is the girl from District 5 and I watch as Flux looks to the ground briefly and wonder how well he knew her.

Izak is still alive. No surprise there.

* * *

Eventually I drift off to sleep, the sleeping bag surprisingly supplying me with all the heat I need.

It is not long before nightmares make me sit bolt upright, a concerned Flux glances over.

"Nightmare?" he asks and I nod. I suppose we all get them.

"Let me take watch now. I don't really want to go back to sleep." He nods and I climb out of the sleeping back, not listening to his protestations that he'll be fine without it.

"If you see or hear anything, wake me up immediately." He says as he leans in, giving me a quick peck on the lips. It is sweet and I feel my cheeks heat up, knowing how many people are watching. Knowing my brother is watching.

I soon miss the warmth of the bag, pulling my knees up to my chest. It is eerily quiet and the darkness seems to swirl around me.

I feel the panic rising in my throat and swallow it quickly.

One of my worst fears. The dark.

I try to quieten my mind, singing various songs from my childhood in my head, almost like a lullaby.

It doesn't work, I can feel the darkness closing in, feel its tendrils wrapping around me, reaching places deep within me.

A silent tear pours down my cheek as I clutch the small piece of fabric in my hand, drawing my knees even closer.

I force myself to keep looking, to keep my eyes open. It's as if, if I close them, they'll never open again.

I'm being ridiculous, of all the fears I could have it had to be one of the most common, the most irrational. But I will not let Flux die because I am afraid of an absence of light.

So I keep watching.


	7. Leaving our Footprints in the Sand

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter 7

We seem to settle into a routine for the next three days. Two more faces appear in the sky at night and I find myself surprisingly relieved that Izak isn't one of them. This means the career pack is still out in full force.

It's the morning of the fourth day, the artificial sun rises as I manage to peel my eyes open. I blush when I see Flux watching me.

"It's my turn to go fill up the water bottle." He states as he gets up, grabbing the metal container. "I won't be long."

I nod as he gets up, turning my attention to the pack beside me and fetching out the left-overs from dinner last night. Berries.

We haven't managed to catch any meat yet so we've been relying on our knowledge of plants to keep us from starving. It hadn't taken us long to find a source of water, but we had decided not to stay too near as it may attract other tributes, hence the long walk to get there.

The berries are slightly mushy now but I am too tired (and honestly too scared) to go looking for more on my own.

I pick two large leaves from the nearest bush and place half of the berries on each. My mind is occupied, but I freeze when I hear a rustle near by.

Be calm. It could be anything.

Or anyone.

Slowly, I reach for the knife in the pack, relieved when my fingers wrap around the black handle. Part of me wants to call out, to see if it is actually Flux and I have nothing to be afraid of. But the other part knows that it's stupid.

She is on top of me before I can move again. I recognise her easily.

Prine.

She is holding up a knife, about to bring it down. I have to think fast.

Move!

I bring my knee up to connect with her stomach and she is caught off guard, giving me long enough to pull up my knife.

She shoves my hand to the ground, and climbs on top of me. She larger than me and heavier but I wriggle and kick as hard as I can, sinking my teeth into her wrist.

Prine yelps, automatically cupping her arm and I reach up, yanking her head backwards by her hair. She squeals and waves her knife around and it catches me on the arm but I manage to flip her over so I'm on top, pinning her down.

I raise the knife when I feel myself being lifted up in the air by strong arms around my waist.

"Get off her!" The voice growls. He shoves me back down to the ground and Prine is on top of me again before he can do anything. The knife is still in my hand and I twist it up so that it is facing her stomach.

She smiles and raises up her knife, ready to bring it down and completely unaware of the knife so dangerously close to her skin.

Just do it.

One push.

It'll be over.

"Goodbye Iris." I hear Izak call from somewhere in the distance. There is a sneer in his voice that I can make out even though my minds seems to be blocking out a lot of sound.

Do it.

I am in the position where I can win. I can live. All I have to do is push the knife into her stomach. All I have to do is kill her.

I'm doing it.

Her eyes go wide as she appears to stare into some point in the distance. She is so close that her last gasp of air tickles my cheeks. So close that I think I see the life leave her eyes.

She collapses by my side, I look down at the knife in my hand. Preparing to accept the fact that I have just killed someone.

The cannon goes off.

But my knife is clean, there is not a drop of blood on it and it certainly hasn't been plunged into anyone's stomach.

My eyes flick to the left.

Flux.

He is emerging from the bushes, arm shaking and a confused look in his eye as he stares at the body at my side.

His face turns pale as he takes in the shape of the knife in her back. The blood leaking around the edges, almost invisible against the black of her tshirt.

"No."

The sound is barely a whisper, but it is laden with disbelief.

"No. No. No."

I had almost forgotten he was there. Izak.

His attention is focused on the dead girl, eyes already glazed over with tears. I roll out of the way quickly, grabbing the packs and walking up to Flux. He barely sees me as I place a hand on his arm.

"Let's go." I whisper, and he nods. We turn to move but I catch myself looking back at the scene we are leaving.

I have never seen him like this. I didn't think he was capable of something like this. Of _feeling._

For a second I pity him. He is leaning over her body, hands running through her hair and a single tear running down his cheek. His voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear.

"No no no! No please come back. Please. Come back to me."

I thought he was messing around with her, I didn't think it was anything serious. I certainly didn't think it was love as that was always something that Izak had seemed incapable of feeling in the past.

There is nothing he can do. She is not coming back.

Anger blazes in my heart against the people who force this upon us. The people that have done this.

Yes Prine was a career, but she was victim just the same.

She had a family, she had people who loved her.

It isn't fair.

Flux is quiet for the rest of the day. We keep walking, picking berries as we go. I stop to look at the cut on my arm.

It's not deep. I'll survive.

The parachute comes down before the light goes completely. I catch it, suddenly exited at the prospect that one of us might have a sponsor.

My heart leaps when I see the contents. A basic first aid kit!

For your arm. Keep going. - F

I smile as I read the note from my mentor. Mouthing a quick thank you.

"What is it?"

His voice startles me as he has barely spoken all day.

"A small first aid kit. I can bandage my arm now. Or do you think we should save it?" I ask, feeling ashamed at the thought of using it know when we could need it more later on. There is a chance the cut will get infected but that's a chance I could take.

"No, it'll get infected," he says smiling sadly, did he read my mind? "Come here, I'll help."

I am quiet as I settle in front of him, handing him the kit and listening for the click as he opens it.

"I didn't even notice this. I'm sorry." He says.

My mind is bursting with questions, I want to ask him how he's doing. If he's okay. Instead I stay silent.

Minutes pass as he gently wraps a bandage around my arm. It doesn't hurt, fortunately.

The anthem brings my mind back to the present. Another cannon had blown earlier. That's two dead in one day.

I feel Flux's hand tighten around my arm when Prine's face appears in the sky. Gently I place my hand on top of his, eyes never leaving the sky.

District 4?

A face from District 6 appears and I feel myself let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Izak is still alive, for some reason I don't want him to die. Not just yet. He has just lost someone that was apparently very close to him. Perhaps I want to know that he is suffering.

I doubt that. I have never been one to revel in other people's misery.

We are all victims, and knowing that he is suffering just as much as I have in the past, that he is capable of feeling hurt, of caring, makes it impossible for me to hate him.

* * *

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